


Macaroni & Drunk Confessions

by speedyvibraniumdevil



Series: Pietro Maximoff/Quicksilver [4]
Category: Marvel, Pietro Maximoff - Fandom, Quicksilver - Fandom
Genre: College AU, Cussing, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of alcohol, One Shot, a very drunk pietro, clint and daisy make small cameos, college shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 16:30:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17870753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speedyvibraniumdevil/pseuds/speedyvibraniumdevil
Summary: (College Au) On a Saturday night you could’ve spent having fun with friends, you’re stuck in your dorm, catching up with homework. Just when you think that nothing good could come, a very adorably drunk Pietro gives you a call, asking for help.





	Macaroni & Drunk Confessions

It was Saturday night, and in college that usually consisted of a lot of drinking, partying, and shenanigans. However, what was supposed to be a fun night for most, turned into hours of studying for you, hunched over you desk as you desperately caught up with pages upon pages of reading.

Why the fuck did you decide to take political science, out of all the classes? Why?

You didn’t know. You could’ve dropped out before it was too late, but you were too proud and overconfident in your ability to pass the class. Now, you weren’t so sure, but it was too late now.

It was sometime past one in the morning, and you were on your fifth cup of coffee. Although, no amount of caffeine could save your eyes from burning. Your back hurt incessantly, so you found yourself changing from your bed to your desk, and now, to your dorm room floor to find some semblance of comfort.

If it wasn’t for the fact that you’d get money out of selling it, you swore you were going to burn this book the second the semester ended.

Your roommate Daisy, and your neighbor, Pietro, had invited out to a party that was across the quad, in one of the other dorms. It sounded enticing, so you promised them you’d go once you were done. But lo and behold, it was practically 2am and there was no way you’d make it.

You sighed and dropped the pen in your hands into the book to save your page.

I need a break, I need a break, I need a break.

With a groan you sprawled facedown the floor. It was times like these where you were sure this was how you were going to die.

Your phone sounded off with a phone call, startling you. You lazily grabbed it from the floor next to you, only to perk up with shock at the name on your phone.

Pietro.

One of the few people you knew here, and the only one you had a massive thing for. He’s usually the reason you went to parties in the first place, and the only person you would gladly take a phone call from.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?”

“Hey, Piet. How’s the party?”

“Uhhh I don’t know.”

You scrunched up your nose in confusion. “What do you mean? Aren’t you there?”

“No. I left,” his slurred speech made you smile. He was drunk. “Listen….I kinda need your help.”

“Help? With what? What happened?”

He proceeded to ramble on, “Don’t worry, I’m just an idiot. I forgot my ID, so I can’t get into the building and I’ve been hoping someone would come and open it but no one came yet. But then I thought of you.”

I thought of you.

You giggled, “Oh my god, Piet. Wait - you’re outside?”

“Yeah.”

You stood up and walked to the window that overlooked the quad, and right there, by the entrance of the building, stood a blonde haired boy who was waving at you from below. You shook your head and opened the window.

“Hi.” His voice echoed both as you  heard it both through the phone and in real life.

“How long have you been down there you weirdo?”

“I don’t know. Years.”

You snorted, “Oh, Piet.”

There was a silence and then, “It’s really cold down here so if you could hurry up-”

“Oh, yeah, yeah I’ll be right there.”

* * *

When you got to the first floor and pushed the door open to let him in, he smiled at you drunkenly.

“Thank you, Printesa.”

“You’re welcome, good sir.”

It was your usual response to the Sokovian nickname he seemed to save for only you.

He went for the stairs, a little too confidently, and you watched him in concern and amusement as he held onto the railing for support when he visibly got dizzy.

“Do you need help?”

“Nah, I’m fine. I’m not that drunk.”

“That’s what every drunk person says.”

“Yeah, but this time, I’m right.”

“Please, you’re never ri-”

He twisted and put his index finger over your lips. “Shhhh.”

You glared at him, but let him continue. He got about five steps before stumbling. You grabbed him by his middle to keep him steady and he instinctively put his arm around your shoulders.

“Okay, maybe I do need help.”

“You think?”

You shook your head once again, but you could never be angry with Pietro. Not really.

“Be nice, I’m drunk.”

-Especially when he said shit like that when he was drunk.

The entire walk up to the third floor you couldn’t stop thinking about how close the two of you were, and how even though he smelled like alcohol, you could also smell the cologne he liked to wear. It made you wish he could always be this close.

“Why were you alone, by the way?” you asked, “Didn’t you go to that party with Clint? Or did he find some girl to hook up with?”

“Nah, he doesn’t know that I left.”

“You ditched him?”

He shrugged, “Nah, I saw him with a red head. They were pretty preoccupied. I wasn’t having fun, so I left. He’ll be fine.”

You gave him a weird look. “I thought you always had fun at parties.”

“Yeah, but, this time it wasn’t that fun.”

“Why?”

“Because you weren’t there,” he said casually.

The statement nearly made you trip over the next step, threatening to take you both down. You whipped your head to look at him.

“You don’t need me to have fun at a party, Piet. I don’t even party that hard. Like at all.”

“I know, but I like talking to you, Y/N. Aside from Clint, you’re the only person that I like. Everyone else is an asshole.”

You giggled, but inside your heart was soaring. That was 0 for 2 on things Pietro has said that have almost killed you with how sweet they were.  You didn’t realize he thought about you that much.

Was this a product of his drunkenness? Maybe. Probably.

When you finally got to your floor, you were ready to leave Pietro at his dorm room and call it a night. Goodnight and go. He could use the sleep and so could you.

But then you remembered that he didn’t have his keycard….so he couldn’t get in.

“Shit,” you both said.

He leaned his forehead against the blue door in defeat. You cared about him too much to leave him sitting out here by himself again. So you sighed and motioned for him to follow you.

“Come on you big baby. You can hang out in my room until Clint comes back.”

He looked up at you in surprise. “Really? What about Daisy?”

“She’s staying with her boyfriend for the night.”

That made him beam with excitement, and you had to turn around and start heading to your dorm into order to hide just how much him being cute affected you.

_Keep it together, Y/L/N._

* * *

Pietro sat at the edge of your bed with a bottle of water that you insisted he drink all of to stay hydrated.

“You throw up in here and I’ll kill you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Since you clearly weren’t going to get anymore reading in, you picked up the mess of books, notes, and pens on the ground and put them away on your desk. You couldn’t really complain about it anyway. You abhorred those books, and having your drunk, blabbering crush take your attention away from them was definitely a better alternative any day of the week.

“Why does your room always look so nice?”

“Because we clean it? And decorate it?”

He snorted, “Clint and I never do that.”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.”

When you turned your attention back to him, you found that he was standing up by the box of food you and Daisy shared, with a box of mac & cheese in his hand. He eyed with with confused, narrowed eyes and then looked at you.

“You have Star Wars shaped macaroni?”

“…Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Why not?,” you asked defensively, snatching the box away from him. “Don’t shame my macaroni.”

“You can make that in here?” 

“Yeah.”

“Without a stove??”

He looked completely amazed.

“Yeah, I have a special bowl for it. You put some water in it and stick it in the microwave,” you explained, and as you did so, you realized you were hungry. “You want some?”

He looked at you like you were crazy. “What kind of a question is that? Of course I do.”

* * *

After about 5 minutes (which is how long it took to make), you were both sitting on your bed, legs crossed, while you shared a bowl of macaroni and cheese. Well, Pietro scarfed down most of it. 

At some point you had started to play music, per his request, but you ended up talking over it anyways. You even mentioned watching something on your laptop that was long forgotten too.

He was drunk on alcohol and you were drunk on lack of sleep, and both of you were way too into whatever stupid things you were talking about.

Every now and then you’d stare at Pietro with an amused smile because of how adorable he was acting. Both the food and the water you supplied seemed to sober him up a little, but he was still somewhat drunk for sure. You didn’t complain, it made your conversations that much funnier.

When he tried to tell you some joke he saw on Twitter, he messed it up, terribly, but in the end it made you laugh even harder than the joke itself.

When you finally calmed down and caught your breath, it was quiet, and Pietro was looking at you. There was a goofy smile on his face, and with the look he had in his blue eyes, you could have sworn he was swooning. But no, maybe it was just the alcohol.

“What?” you asked shyly. “Do I have something on my face?”

He shook his head, “No.”

“Then why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because,” he cocked his head to the side, “you’re so pretty, Y/N.”

You nearly choked on air. He had never called you pretty or beautiful before. Complimented the way you look, sure, but not call you pretty.

You played off your surprise with clearing your throat. “Thank you.”

There was a moment’s silence, and he never took his eyes off of you. You could only keep the eye contact for so long before you broke and looked down at you hands. But that didn’t stop Pietro from saying his next words.

“I really wanna kiss you right now.”

Your head whipped up so fast, you were surprised it didn’t snap off your neck.

“What?”

“I said I wanna kiss you right now.” He said, looking down at his hands with a smile. “Actually, I think about kissing you all the time.”

When he looked back up at you, your jaw was basically on the floor.

“Do you think about kissing me?”

To save yourself, you scoffed.

“Pietro, you’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You took the now empty bowl of mac & cheese and put it on your desk to clean up later.

“I’m not that drunk, Y/N. And you didn’t answer my question!”

You leaned back against your desk and crossed your arms. He was at the edge of the bed again.

“That’s what you said before you needed help coming up the stairs.”

“Fine. I am drunk, but I’m not lying. I want to kiss you. And I’m pretty sure you’re the only girl I ever think about.”

That was the last thing you expected him to say. Did he just? Did he really just say that? You were so flustered that when you tried to say something coherent, it didn’t come out, which made Pietro laugh, which in turn annoyed you.

Was he really telling the truth? They say that drunk people and children are the one who tell the truth, so it could be true. And ever since meeting him there was nothing else you wanted more than to kiss him. But he was drunk, and there was a strong possibility that he wasn’t going to remember saying any of this in the morning anyway.

“So….do you?” he asked again.

You rolled your eyes. Yes you idiot. But instead said, “While you’re drunk? No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you can barely tell a joke right now, so I doubt you’d be a good kisser. Plus, you’re probably not even going to remember any of this in the morning anyways, so what’s the point?”

“You don’t know that. Maybe I will,” he shrugged.

Was this really happening? At this point you were on the verge of laughter. If he was sober you’d kiss him on the spot.

_Hmmmmm_

A knock on the door put this whole conversation on pause. Wanda had a key, so it must have been someone else. Maybe it was Clint.

Before you went over to open it, you had to say something to the drunk, lovesick Pietro.

“Tell you what? If, when you wake up, you still remember this whole conversation in the morning, and you still want to kiss me…..go right ahead. I won’t stop you.”

And if he didn’t remember, then it was all just a drunken word vomit and you could both forget about it. Even though you were really hoping he’d remember.

This elicited a bit smile from Pietro. There was another knock and then a male voice. You let Pietro process this on your bed while you went to open the door. Just as you suspected, Clint Barton was on the other side. He looked much more sober than his roommate. Either he drank less, or he could hold his liquor better.

“Hey, Y/N. Sorry for taking so long, but I’m here for the idiot.”

You snorted, and opened the door wide open so he could see Pietro sitting on your bed.

“He’s all yours.”

“Come on, man. Time to call it a night.”

Pietro got up, sluggishly, “Yeah, I’m coming.”

Clint looked to you again, “He didn’t puke did he?”

“Nope. I told him I’d kill him if he did.”

“Maybe you should do that more often.”

You nodded, “Maybe.”

Pietro was by your side at the threshold, looking between you and Clint.

“Thanks for letting me stay here for a bit and making me macaroni, printesa”

“You’re welcome, good sir. I’ll see you when you’re back to your normal self.”

He laughed and followed Clint out the door and down the hallway.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Clint said, which you returned.

“I’ll be back in the morning when I remember!” Pietro said loudly from the end of the hallway, shamelessly.

You laughed, blushing with heat.

“Just say goodnight and go,” you called back.

His own laugh resounded through the hallway. “Goodnight.”

You had a hard time going to sleep that night. Partly because of the caffeine still in your system, but also because you couldn’t stop thinking about how Pietro looked at you tonight.

And the words, “I think about kissing you all the time,” kept replaying in your head over and over.

* * *

“Rise and shine, Buttercup,” your roommate, Daisy said loudly before pulling the blinds open and letting the bright sunlight into the room.

You covered your eyes with your arm and groaned.

“Whaaaat the fuck.”

“Sorry to be an asshole, but it’s already 12pm.”

“Oh shit, really?”

You sat up and rubbed your face. You noticed Daisy was already fully dressed. Did she ever sleep in?

“Yeah. Were you up late last night or something?”

“Yeah. I guess later than I thought.”

“Well, they just started serving lunch and I was thinking of heading down there right now. Wanna come?”

You nodded slowly, still waking up, rather, rebooting.

“Yeah.”

“Cool. I’ll wait for you to get dressed,” she said before plopping down on her bed. “Oh, and also, Pietro was looking for you earlier.”

She shot you a knowing smirk. Your eyes widened, suddenly remember why you were up late last night in the first place.

“Did he say why?”

She shrugged, “No, I don’t think-”

There was a knock on the door and it made you jump.

“Y/N?” Pietro’s muffled voice came from the other side.

Daisy gestured to the door a little too excitedly.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

You heart hammered in your chest, but before you could even process the fact that he was at the door, your feet were moving of their own accord, taking you there. You tried fixing your hair so you’d look less like the groggy mess that you felt.

When you opened the door, Pietro was against the door frame in his pajamas. His hair was sticking up in a few places from having just woken up himself, no doubt. He probably had a massive hangover. But that didn’t seem to matter to him at all. No, he only came here for one thing.

You were barely in the middle of saying hello when he grabbed the sides of your face, and kissed you. It was only a few seconds, and when he let you go, you were left dumbfounded, dazed, and wishing for more. But all you could do was stand there with your mouth open in shock. He let out a deep breath and grinned at you.

“I remembered.”

Your mouth went from an “O” shape to a smile.

“Yeah,” you were breathless, “I guess you did.”

“And you said I could-”

“Yeah, I know.”

And you were damn glad you did.

He continued to smile until he glanced behind you and got an awkward look in his eyes. He smiled and waved.

“Hi, Daisy.”

You looked slowly behind you to find Daisy with an expression of complete and utter confusion.

“Hi….”

You turned back to Pietro and when you got a better look at him, you realized how tired he looked. He was definitely fighting a headache right now.

He reached for your hand and you let him take it. It fit so perfectly in his.

“We can talk later, yeah? Alone,” you suggested.

Pietro nodded, “Yeah. Maybe over some more mac & cheese.”

You giggled, “Definitely.”

He kissed you again, sweeter this time, less urgent. It was like that alone unlocked so many emotions, good ones, that you had never felt before. It was scary but exciting at the same time. And when he pulled away you had to contain a frown.

“I’ll see you later, Printesa.”

He backed away, towards his end of the hallway, with his hand slowly pulling away from yours until it was just the tips of your fingers and then nothing.

He shot you and wink and before you knew it, he was gone.

As you kept looking out into the hallway, still in a daze, Daisy leaned against the doorframe beside you and said,

“Looks like someone has some explaining to do.”

“You have no idea.”


End file.
